Falling
by bands-and-the-tardis
Summary: What happens if John tried to stop Sherlock the day Moriarty made him jump? What if John takes the fall instead? What if Moriarty lives to continue torturing them both? Slight Johnlock, nothing too graphic.
1. Chapter 1

Sherlock cradled John in his arms. Tears flowed down his face and landed in the ruffled grey-blond hair on John's head.

"Sh-sherlock?" John coughed.

"No no, don't speak. Hush, its okay. Everything is going to be okay. You're going to be okay." Sherlock mumbled. He held onto his friend tightly until the ambulance arrived.

"Sherlock. It-it hurts t-to move." John croaked. He moved his head to look up at Sherlock. Sherlock returned his gaze, his cheeks covered with dried tears. John gave him a sad look.

"Don't cry for me, Sherlock. I had it coming; you told me not to leave, but I left anyway." John said quietly.

Sherlock closed his eyes. "No, John. No you didn't. Don't you speak like this."

The ambulance came and took John. Sherlock climbed in after the paramedics and sat next to him. The ride was bumpy; by the time they reached the hospital, poor John was in an unbearable amount of pain.

Sherlock became quite annoying as he hovered over the doctor's shoulder as he examined his friend.

"Mr. Holmes, if you could please let me to do my work, your friend will be fine." The doctor requested kindly.

"Well, not if you're doing it wrong." Sherlock retorted.

The doctor rolled his eyes. "Mr. Holmes, please-"

"Fine, fine, I will stay out of your way." Sherlock sighed.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Earlier that morning_**

**_Sherlock's POV_**

John was sitting on the sofa next to me as we were watching the morning news. I had idea how to tell him what might happen.

"John…"

"What is it?" John asked, eyes still locked on the television.

I picked up the remote and turned it off. Then I turned to face John. He looked at me with concern. He was so great; always looking out for me even though I am, well, me.

"Sherlock. What is wrong?" he asked again in a more sympathetic tone.

"John… Moriarty is still out there, spreading lies about me, trying to destroy me"

"Oh, but we will stop him Sherlock. Someone as clever as you could do anything." John said, trying to smile and lighten the mood.

I looked at him with deep sadness in my eyes. John's face saddened too.

"If he doesn't destroy me, he will destroy those that I care about. I can't let that happen, John."

_I especially can't let that happen to you_, I thought.

Just then my phone buzzed. I picked it up. It was a text from Moriarty.

**Meet me at the top of the building. You know which one. And don't bring any friends, or I'll blow their brains out. –JM**

"I have to go." I said quietly. I stood up, grabbed my coat and started for the door.

"Sherlock, wait!" John said quickly as he stood up.

"You can't come." I said sternly.

John stopped, taken aback. "Please come back in one peace." John said pleadingly.

I nodded faintly and walked out of the flat. I knew I wouldn't be coming back, and something told me that John had the same idea.

**_On the rooftop._**

"But if you don't die, then all of your friends will die Sherlock." Moriarty chimed.

I tried to think of a retort, and then Sherlock thought of John. "John?"

"Oh, not just John, but everybody, Sherlock!" Moriarty said again.

Just then John busted through the door to the rooftop with a handgun. "Put your hands up Moriarty. Leave him alone!" John pointed the gun at him. Moriarty just laughed.

"Didn't I say to leave your friends at home Sherlock?" he asked. Then he ran for John and tackled him. To Sherlock's horror, he was trying to get John close to the edge.

"Moriarty, no! You've come for me, not him. Let him go!" Sherlock ran for Moriarty. Just as he reached him he had already sent John tumbling over the edge. He closed his eyes and heard his body thud at the bottom.

"Now you and John will be dead, but you won't die at my hand." He sing-songed those last words then shot himself.

Sherlock rushed down the stairwell and out the door to John's side. He still had a pulse. He pulled the doctor into his arms and cradled him.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Present time_**

**_Nobody's POV_**

Sherlock stayed the night by John's side, and he stayed for several days. John would awake long enough to say hi then the drugs would put him back to sleep. After about a week and a half the drug doses were lessened, and John was able to sit up and have full conversations.

"You could've died John, and it would've been my fault." Sherlock said, choking back tears.

"Well, you could've died too Sherlock. And I wasn't about to let that happen." John said, looking at me." I wouldn't have been able to live without you Sherlock… It's just… I couldn't-." John buried his face in his hands as he couldn't finish what he was saying.

Sherlock walked over and sat on the edge of John's bed. "John, look at me." Sherlock said. John looked up, his eyes reddened and his face soaked. Sherlock felt a pang in his heart. "John, you shouldn't worry about me so much. I get myself in these situations, you know that." Sherlock said, trying to reassure his friend.

"But Sherlock, what if one day it is too much for you to handle; I saw him. I saw Moriarty. He was going to make you jump. I just… I couldn't bear it. I couldn't bear the fact of you being out of my life."

"And you think that I can't bear the fact of you being out of mine?! When I heard you hit the ground John, I was almost sure you were dead, and I wanted to jump down with you. I felt like my heart shattered, John! I love you!" Sherlock shouted. He covered his mouth at the last part and turned away.

John stared at him in disbelief.


	4. Chapter 4

"Sherlock?" he said tenderly.

Sherlock turned around to face him. "I'm sorry, I've just made this whole situation extremely uncomfortable, I know you are not gay. I'll just leave…" he said nervously and stood up.

John grabbed him and pulled him back towards him. Sherlock spun and caught himself so he wouldn't land on top of him. "Oh Sherlock," John said. "I'm not gay. I'm bisexual."

He pulled Sherlock in and kissed him tenderly. Sherlock ran his fingers through that grey-blond hair of his and kissed back eagerly.

When they finally broke the kiss, they rested their foreheads on each other and looked each other in the eyes as they caught their breath.

"You like me?" Sherlock asked cheerfully.

"I've loved you ever since we first met Sherlock. You can be an arrogant dick sometimes, but you're cleverness makes you very sexy." John said. He winked on the last part.

Sherlock let out a low chuckle. "Oh, and that's even sexier." John almost gasped. He pulled Sherlock in for another kiss. Just as he did, the doorknob jiggled as the nurse opened the door. Sherlock jumped back into his seat and John lay down.

"Are you boys doing okay? I won't be here long, just need to check on the patient."

After about five minutes they were alone in the room again. Sherlock and John exchanged glances. Sherlock got up and waltzed over to John. "So, are you gonna sit up, or do I have to do all of the work?" he asked, followed by his signature smile.

John happily sat up and pulled Sherlock into a kiss with his tie.

**_A few weeks later_**

John and Sherlock walked into the flat.

"Huh, with you gone, this place actually maintains itself pretty well." John teased. Sherlock shot him a glare, but John just chuckled.

"Oh, it was a mess before I got here." Spoke an unfortunately familiar voice.


	5. Chapter 5

Sherlock forced himself in front of John. "You were dead. How are you here?"

Moriarty spun around in the chair he sat in. "Oh, aren't miracles wonderful, I didn't actually shoot to kill myself. Only to make _you _think I did; and what a surprise, it worked!"

"What do you want Moriarty?" Sherlock shouted.

"Well, it is very clear you won't be going down as easily as I thought, so I'll just take the next best thing… _your friend._" Moriarty smiled evilly as he peered to see John behind Sherlock.

"You won't touch him! I won't let you hurt him! He's done nothing to you!" Sherlock yelled, trying his hardest to not sound desperate.

"Oh, don't be stupid Sherlock. I'm not killing him because he's done something to me. I'm killing him because you've done something to me. Oh, and here's where it ties together: he means the world to you, doesn't he?"

"You'll never get him. I won't let you." Sherlock said firmly, keeping his stance in front of John.

Moriarty gave his evil grin, and then he attacked. He ran up to Sherlock and shoved him out of the way. He turned and kicked him to the floor. He then grabbed the edge of the bookcase next to him and pulled it, sending it down onto Sherlock's body. The bookshelf weighed tons, and it was crushing him. Sherlock screamed out in pain.

Then he turned to John, who stood there horrified by what he had just seen. "Oh, don't worry John. I have Sherlock where he can see everything that happens to you, his precious John." Moriarty cackled. He picked up a vase and smashed it into John's head. John was still a bit weak; he immediately fell to the floor, screaming in pain. Sherlock cringed, as he struggled to remove the bookcase from his body. Moriarty pulled out a gun and began beating John up with the butt of it. Sherlock counted at least 50 blows to John's head. Then Moriarty began to hit John on other vulnerable places, like his knees, elbows, and other weak spots that he could find. When Moriarty stood again, his friend was bloodied and unrecognizable. Then Moriarty kicked John a few times in the sides and stomped his ribcage. He backed up a bit and shot a glare at Sherlock.

"Look what's left of your precious John, Sherlock. You should've killed yourself, now your friend gets the brunt of your stupidity!"

Sherlock used the anger Moriarty sparked within him as strength. He managed to wedge his body from underneath the bookshelf. He picked up a lamp and smashed it into the side of Moriarty's head. The gun fell out of Moriarty's hand; Sherlock picked it up and aimed it at him.

"Go ahead, Sherlock. Shoot me," Moriarty said, no fear in his voice.

The gun quavered as Sherlock continued aiming at his head. He then pointed it lower and shot Moriarty in both of his knees. Moriarty cried out.

"No," Sherlock said, "I won't kill you. I'll just make it so you live the rest of your miserable life wishing you were dead."

He then kicked Moriarty over so his back was facing up and then Sherlock shot him at the base of his spine. Sherlock dropped the gun and ran over to John. His poor John, his face bloodied and his body bruised. Sherlock stared at his unrecognizable friend below him.

"John?" he said softly. "Are you with me?" John looked up at him his blue eyes full of pain and confusion. "Please Sh-sherlock. Please let me die." He gasped. Sherlock began to cry. "John, I'm going to call an ambulance for you, just hold on, stay with me plea-."

"Sherlock it hurts so much! Please let me die. Please. Please." John began to weep and beg for Sherlock to kill him.

Sherlock called the ambulance and gathered his broken John into his arms. "Help is on the way love. Help is on the way." He held John close to him until he heard the sirens arrive.


	6. Chapter 6

**_In the hospital_**

Sherlock sat next to John's bed and watched him day after day. The head trauma had put him in a coma. Sherlock waited and waited in the hopes that John would soon awake and then they could return to their flat in peace.

**_A few weeks later_**

"Mr. Holmes… We have some bad news about your friend."

Sherlock sat up quickly. "What, what is it?"

"His injuries are more serious than we first thought; he has suffered a good amount of brain damage. We are afraid that he might not make it out of this coma." The nurse said.

Sherlock's heart shattered, he swore he could feel it. "You might want to make your goodbyes now, Mr. Holmes. I don't see him lasting much longer. I will leave you to it." The nurse said a bit softer as she left the room.

Sherlock slowly rose from his seat and walked to John's bedside. He felt his eyes burn and a knot tie in his throat as he tried to hold back tears.

"I'm sorry John… I'm sorry for meeting you. This never would have happened if you hadn't met me. You would be alive and well. I'm so… sorry…" he whispered. He fell to his knees and cried into his hands.

"Sherlock," said a small, raspy whisper. Sherlock looked up to see those lovely blue eyes open slightly. John slowly picked up his hand and ruffled Sherlock's hair. "Sherlock don't you dare apologize. I don't know what my life would be without you, and quite frankly, I don't want to know. It's been great." He said. He gave his signature smile and laughed quietly.

Sherlock rested his hand on John's cheek and smiled back at him. He then closed his eyes as tears began to flow. "John, I don't want to lose you." He wept.

"And I don't want to leave you… but Moriarty hit hard, Sherlock. I just don't know if it's worth healing just to be attacked again." John said, struggling to hold back tears himself.

"He can't hurt you now, John. You'd be safe." Sherlock said.

"He's got men, Sherlock; men that want me dead." John replied.

"I'll protect you." Sherlock wept, tears flowing out completely.

John's breath hitched and he slowly closed his eyes. Sherlock stared at him, his mind starting to spiral.


	7. Chapter 7

"No, no no no no no. John, wake up! Please wake up!"

The nurse opened the door and entered the room.

"I'm sorry Mr. Holmes. There is nothing else to be done with your friend. I'm so sorry," she said.

Sherlock stood up never taking his eyes off of John. His vision blurred as tears swelled in his eyes.

_But if you don't die, then all of your friends will die Sherlock._

The words caused Sherlock to cringe. "Damn you, Moriarty!" he screamed.

He couldn't hold himself up. He fell back down to his knees next to John's bed and wept louder. The nurse walked up to him and rested her hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry Mr. Holmes. I'm so very sorry."

Sherlock stood and attempted to pull himself together.

"Oh, it's quite alright, don't worry about me," he said. With that, he turned up his coat collar and slowly walked out of the room.

Just as he exited the room he heard a faint voice… it sounded like John's.

"Don't leave me, Sherlock. Wait for me."

He shook his head. "No, he just… passed away in front of me. That couldn't possibly… be him," he whispered to himself.

He stopped and listened just in case it came again; it did.

"Sherlock, please don't leave me here alone."


	8. Chapter 8

At this, he turned and walked back into the room.

It was empty; the nurse must have left when he did.

"John?" he asked, not even masking the fact that he was desperate.

John let out a small cough. He lifted up his hand and Sherlock gently grabbed it.

"Looks like you aren't lucky enough to get rid of me yet," John whispered jokingly.

This made Sherlock frown.

"Oh, don't speak like that. I'd never want to get rid of you," he replied.

They sat in silence for a moment before John attempted to sit up. Sherlock placed his hand on John's chest to keep him from moving.

"Don't move, John. You are hurt, you need to stay still and rest," Sherlock said sternly.

John looked up at him. His blue eyes were very sad. Sherlock looked back at him with a concerned look.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I'm tired of these blasted injuries, Sherlock… I've been in this hospital for weeks and there has been no improvement…" he said angrily, "the only good thing about all of this is you being here with me," he said the last part calmer as he looked back up at Sherlock.

Sherlock looked down at him. He felt his eyes burn as he began to cry. "John, I- I wish you wouldn't talk so negatively. You will get better soon enough, I'm sure," he said as his voice wavered.

John went to sit up again and did not stop when Sherlock motioned for him to lay back down.

"John…" he said, a slight edge to his voice.

John put his hand on Sherlock's cheek and turned his face so he was facing him. "Damn these injuries, Sherlock. _Damn them_," John said.

John pulled Sherlock into a hug. It was the first hug they had shared in a long time; neither of them wanted to let go of the other. When they finally broke the hug Sherlock immediately pulled John into a kiss.

"Oh Sherlock…" John breathed.

This gave Sherlock a strange feeling. He didn't know exactly what to call it, but whatever it was seemed to give him an extremely strong longing for John.

"John, we should probably stop this," Sherlock said. It came out like a gasp, but Sherlock really didn't want it to do so.

"Sherlock, I want you so badly." John whispered.

His hands, oh god that Doctor's hands. They moved around his body so skillfully. He didn't want him to stop.

"John…" Sherlock groaned, "we… we can't. You, you need to stop this."

John looked at him like he was a puppy whom just had his favorite toy taken away.

"Come on Sherlock," he pleaded. "You know you want to."

"John, you are hurt. I don't want you to do this and end up injuring yourself further," Sherlock said, starting to panic. That feeling told him to let John do what he wanted, but he knew that was a terrible idea.

John proceeded to unbutton Sherlock's shirt. Sherlock looked into John's eyes. They were pure lust.


	9. Chapter 9

"John, stop this. Lie down, and stop this. You need to rest," Sherlock demanded.

John finally lay down, but he yanked Sherlock's arm and Sherlock landed on top of him.

Sherlock became scared when he heard a pained gasp come from below him.

"John, I told you to be careful, what'd you go and do that for?" Sherlock snapped. He immediately retaliated when he saw his friend below him cringing in pain.

"Oh my God, John, do you want me to get the nurse?" Sherlock asked hurriedly.

"No, Sherlock. I'm fine, promise," John said. He sat up again gasping and hitching his breath with each movement. Sherlock couldn't bear to see his friend in so much pain.

"John, I am getting the nurse, you are in more pain now, they need to tend to it," Sherlock insisted.

"Damn it to hell, Sherlock. I don't care about these God damn injuries anymore! I just don't care!" John shouted.

"Well, that's too bad, because I care John! I care whether or not you get back out of this hospital! I care if your injuries end up getting worse! For God's sake, John, what am I supposed to do if you don't make it out of this?!" Sherlock shouted. There was a moment of silence before he spoke again, very quietly. "What am I supposed to do without my doctor?" After Sherlock said this, his gaze dropped to the floor, as if he were ashamed by what he had just said.

John looked at Sherlock. Never before had he seen such passionate words escape that man's mouth. He wasn't the Sherlock Holmes he had met that first day at Bart's Hospital. No… he was a completely different Sherlock now. Tears began to stream down John's face. He smiled as he looked at Sherlock.

After a moment Sherlock finally looked up. John had tears streaming down his face but he was smiling.

"John, are you okay?" he asked.

"You're so different, Sherlock," he said, "you're so compassionate now, you're caring, you're just so different."

Sherlock blushed and looked down again. "Compassionate? Oh, I don't know about that John. Most of the time you act like I'm a complete dick," he joked.

John laughed at this. It was a hearty laugh, one that Sherlock hadn't heard in a very long time.

"Well, you can be one of the biggest dicks ever, but I knew you had a soft side. I just didn't think I'd be the one to bring it out, I suppose." John let out another small laugh.

Sherlock looked at John and smiled. _We are afraid he might not make it_. The nurse's voice echoed in Sherlock's head.

_But he did make it_, Sherlock thought, and smiled.

_I don't see him lasting much longer, _said the voice.

Sherlock frowned at this. "Stop it…" he muttered.

He looked back up at John. John immediately noticed the sadness in Sherlock's eyes.

"What's wrong?" John asked, "Was it something I said? I didn't really mean it in a rude way."

Sherlock began to cry again. He leaned over and pulled John up into a hug. "I don't want to lose you. Please make sure you get better. _Please_."

He kissed John then walked out of the room. He figured it best if John were left on his own to recover so he didn't end up pulling Sherlock on top of him again.


	10. Chapter 10

**_One month later_**

"I tell you, John, it's great to have you back. Doing cases on my own is no fun," Sherlock said.

"Well, I got to say, running around London with you beats lying in the hospital all day by a long shot," John replied.

Sherlock smiled and took a good look at his partner. "You look even better than you did before; those doctors fixed you up well."

"Yeah, they did. Won't need this cane anymore, I'll be able to keep up with you as you run," John laughed.

Sherlock smiled again. John smiled back at him.

"So, uh, all of the things that happened in the hospital…" John started, "that doesn't ruin our friendship, does it?" John hung his head as he asked this; he seemed ashamed of everything that happened.

Sherlock was a bit hurt. "Did, did you not mean any of those things you said?" he asked.

This took John by surprise. "You mean, you meant all of the things you said? You weren't just saying them to make me feel better?"

Sherlock grabbed John and pulled him into a kiss. When they stopped to breathe John's eyes were wide.

Sherlock smirked. "Hope that answers your question?"

John was absolutely speechless. This made Sherlock laugh. "Why so surprised, John? Did you honestly think that I could be interested in anyone else after I met you?"

John coughed a bit. "Really? Nobody else interested you more than me? _Really_?"

"Well, you deal with me, for starters," Sherlock laughed. "You don't always have useless things to say when we are out solving cases."

"Okay." John interrupted, starting to get annoyed.

"But best of all, you saved me in so many ways that I never thought possible."

"How did I, John Watson, save Sherlock Holmes?" John laughed. He looked at Sherlock and immediately stopped seeing that his friend was dead serious.

"You, John Watson, are the balance. When I'm out ready to solve the case, you hold back and help those in need along the way. You control my ignorance. You keep me right, John." Sherlock said.

John continued to look at his friend in disbelief. Sherlock pulled John into a tight hug. "You also kept me from killing myself. That is something I'll never be able to repay," he whispered.

John's eyes watered as he thought about his friend actually falling off of the top of St. Bart's hospital. Sherlock heard his friend begin to cry and broke the hug so he could look at him. "Don't cry, John. There's no need," Sherlock said as he wiped the tears from John's face.

"Tell me that you wouldn't have really done it Sherlock? Tell me you wouldn't have killed yourself because of Moriarty." John cried. "Please tell me that."

Sherlock cupped John's face and held it up so he could look at him. "I would've done it John. I'm sorry, but I would have. I'd do anything to keep my friends safe." Sherlock said. He looked down before continuing. "I'd do anything to keep _you _safe."

John continued to cry. He couldn't bear to think about Sherlock being dead. He hugged Sherlock tightly and buried his face into the crook of his neck. Sherlock hugged John back protectively. "But now that he is dead, I promise you John, I'll never leave you. _Never._"


	11. Chapter 11

**_15 years later_**

John stood in front of the headstone. He read the engraved name over and over again. He still could not fathom the idea.

_Sherlock Holmes _it read.

_Sherlock Holmes…Sherlock Holmes…Sherlock Holmes…Sherlock Holmes _it always read.

It never changed.

It never went away.

A woman walked up to John holding a young girl's hand.

The woman rested her hand on John's shoulder and the girl hugged his leg. John ruffled the young girl's hair and smiled down at her.

"It won't hurt forever, John," said the woman. "I promise." She gave John a reassuring hug.

"I know, Mary. _I know,_" he replied.

John and Mary each grabbed a hand on either side of their daughter and proceeded for the graveyard exit.

John had learned eventually that Sherlock never broke his promise. He never did leave him. Sherlock had died from a bullet wound to the chest. He fell forwards which lodged it out of place. He died of blood loss before the ambulance arrived. The bullet was put there on his own hand, as a bloody creep named Charles Magnusson compelled him to do so. Despite this, Sherlock did live on. He looked down at his daughter; her bright blonde curly hair and her deep blue eyes; her smile that could light up any room; her incredible intelligence that sometimes even left Mycroft Holmes baffled. Sheryl was a young female Sherlock.

_You never left. Thank you for keeping your promise._ John thought.

As they reached the car John turned to see someone standing next to a tree at the front of the grave yard; a tall man with a blue scarf and prominent dark curls; piercing blue eyes and a long trench coat. John rubbed his eyes and looked. The figure was gone. John rubbed it off as him just seeing things. He got into the car and drove home.

The figure reappeared by the tree staring after John.

"I'll never leave you, John Watson. _Never._"


End file.
